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by
Eliot
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Poems
Jun 2020
child
Rainbow discolored,
Burning the ludicrous dream.
Set on the stone,
The story that repeated reality.
Regret was never gone,
She sat beside bearing a child.
Indecisive and fragmented,
An orphan, whose mother died.
The child was trouble,
******* the mother's breast.
Drained her into misery,
Deciding the final fate.
The mother died every night,
Child during the day.
Two head of a compass,
Two-point that never met.
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